


This isn't Happening

by Mapofmyhead



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Belldom - Freeform, I'm so sorry, Muse - Freeform, This is such an old story, kind of, read ahead anyway, this is so cheesy, what is with my fixation with death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4966480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapofmyhead/pseuds/Mapofmyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to ran, help Matt, no matter the cost. What they were doing to him, letting me watch and burn alive from the inside, made a beast grow inside of me, anger running through my veins. I could kill anyone standing in my way in my attempt to help one of the most important people in my life. I could cut them into pieces and burn them, dancing around the fire. But, as I rushed forward, something hard and cold crushed on my head, fucking my plans.</p><p>Much corn, very cheese, wow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This isn't Happening

**Author's Note:**

> Read ahead if you like cheese.
> 
> Originally posted on Wattpad.

Matt bumped into a wall for support as he doubled over with a throaty laughter.

He always found the shit I say rather hilarious, letting out that laughter I, numerous times, found myself addicted to. And it was twice as enjoyable when he was drunk.

We had a couple of cocktails – no, maybe three...or more? – and some tequila shots, that night. Matt had some red wine, as well. We were already wrecked when we left the bar, but he insisted that we took the whole bottle with us. We were f*cked up.

I drunkenly giggled. I took the bottle from Matt's hand and took a big sip. I've never been a big fan of it, but he'd got me into it. And now, it felt so good as it slipped down my throat.

Matt rested his cheek on the cool wall and stayed there, his mouth falling open. I grabbed his hand and tried to pull him off the wall, taking some clumsy steps forward. I tripped over my own feet and fell flat on the wet sidewalk, pulling the intoxicated bloke with me. Another round of high pitched, drunk giggles followed, as we struggled to pull ourselves up, Matt wiggling on top of me, vibrating with laughter. Once on his feet, he bent over to collect his precious wine bottle and dragged his feet forward with me following close behind.

Our hotel was just some blocks away but we decided to take a shortcut, anyway. Without realizing it, we ended up roaming in dirty alleys in one of the most infamous neighbourhoods of London. We were cheering and laughing and talking loudly about undefined stuff, the bottle still moving from hand to hand. We were completely unaware of what was waiting for us just around the corner.

We weren't as careful as we should, I suppose. I guess, we falsely had, in the back of or minds, the impression that nothing could go wrong. That everything was perfect and nothing could go wrong. We were two rockstars having the time of our lives, for yet another night, not giving a shit.

Four figures emerged from around a corner in the distance, threateningly charging at me and Matt but our laughter ceased only when they'd come too close. When we finally figured out this was definitely not good.

Four men, all around their twenties, stood mere meters away, in front of us. The one, standing closer, looked lost but dangerous and he was shaking. His fingers were clenching and relaxing around a rusty crowbar. They hadn't come for a talk, that was for sure, but maybe some reasoning would help right now.

I hoped Matt would feel like reasoning, come up with a good plan that would get us all out of this situation. He'd always been better with words than I could ever be. His brain always worked into overdrive and, surprisingly, even when intoxicated and completely f*cked up. However, this time it was different. I looked down at him only to see his blank stare. He didn't have a plan of escape. He raised his face and looked at me just as shocked.

The brunet stretched his free hand toward us, his palm facing the starry sky. He said nothing, just crooked his fingers a couple of times, silently demanding money.

The movement alone scared me causing even the last trace of alcohol to drain from my intoxicated body within a split second, leaving all my five senses sharp. In my astonishment, my brain went into overdrive for the first time in such a tricky situation. I tried to restrain myself, overcome the fear that was now present, noticeable in my shaky breaths. It slurred my words as I spoke.

“We don't have any money,” I said slowly, raising my arms in surrender, palms towards them. I shoved my hand in my pocket as slowly as I could and took out my iPhone. “Here. Take it.”

He glanced at my phone, then back at me, his intense stare threatening me to lose my self-control and have a nervous breakdown.

“W-We don't want any trouble...Just, take it and we...We w-won't tell a-anybody.” I nodded reassuringly, my arms still up in the air.

He made a sudden step forward and took the phone of my hand. It made a loud noise that echoed in the small alley as it hit the ground and broke into pieces.

“Money.” he demanded again. I shook my head.

“I told you. We have no money.” Why didn't Matt say anything?

He looked back at the other three guys and turned his face back to me when they nodded. He marched closer and tightly grabbed my shoulders, a choked squeak escaped my mouth against my will. He started slapping wherever he could see pockets searching for anything he could take. I stood completely still, tightly pursing my lips not to scream. I looked back at Matt. He looked lost, frightened. My eyes traced to the three guys still standing there, unmoving, glaring at my tiny friend that now seemed so breakable, so vulnerable. I started searching in my pockets along with the man as to get over with the process as fast as possible, hoping that they wouldn't bother searching Matt. The man abruptly grabbed my wrists.

“Hands up!” he shouted in my face, his voice deep and rough, not fitting his boyish appearance. He pushed me and I stumbled backwards, letting out a groan as his fists made contact with my chest.

Then, something happened, the last thing I'd imagine that could happen at that moment. Something I'd later wish would never have happened. Something I'd regret for the rest of my life.

“Oi!” a loud, masculine voice echoed in the alley. “Oi! Don't touch him, you cunt!”

“Matt?” I whispered, breaking into a cold sweat. I turned my head in time to see Matt, marching towards me.

Before I could realize what was going on, Matt's fist collided with the brunet's tanned face, the man letting out a low groan as his head flew back. There was sudden movement behind him, his three mates coming closer, fast. The man span around, his fist clenched around the crowbar. He violently jerked his arm, knocking Matt to the ground.

Matt tried to get up but a muddy boot pushed him back down. I ran towards him to help him.

“Matt!” I cried out. I stretched my arms to touch him, kneel down next to him and help him anyway I could. But two strong hands pulled me up from my leather jacket, having me practically screaming, begging to go close to him. “Matt! No!” I howled as I saw blood dripping from his nose and his split lip.

He turned his face to look at me with pleading eyes before the three guys started mercilessly beating him, his tiny body lost between their tall ones.

I was squirming in the man's tight grip, my stomach flipping to the outrageous image before me.

My arms were freed.

I wanted to ran, help Matt, no matter the cost. What they were doing to him, letting me watch and burn alive from the inside, made a beast grow inside of me, anger running through my veins. I could kill anyone standing in my way in my attempt to help one of the most important people in my life. I could cut them into pieces and burn them, dancing around the fire. But, as I rushed forward, something hard and cold crushed on my head, f*cking my plans.

All I saw was a blur. And then red.

Red anger. Red pain. Red blood.

My face touched the cold, wet cement on the street with a loud bang.

I was hearing distant sounds. Noises. Screaming. It seemed like I was underwater. But I had to get out as soon as possible.

I couldn't see, even though my eyes were wide open. I fought with myself, endeavoring to see something. Anything. The fact that I was blind made me feel even weaker. Useless. I panicked.

You have to help him.

One of the most precious parts of my entire life was being tortured and I was lying here, dealing with a f*cking headache.

Come on! You f*cking pussy!

I blinked several times, the crimson cloak, covering my eyes, fading away. I could see figures through the blur, recognize faces as it slowly faded away as well. Matt doubled on the ground as the shorter of them gave him a kick in the stomach. He let out a loud groan, heard over the blokes' shouts and cheers.

I tried to move, move my legs, my arms, pull myself on my feet. Sacrifice myself to save him. But I couldn't. My limbs were too heavy to lift, too sore to pull me up. I gasped.

This is a nightmare.

I felt a lump forming in my throat not letting air reach my lungs.

I'm not here.

I felt my eyes watering, tears streaming down my cheeks, burning them. My head was pounding. My ears were ringing. The pain spread fast around my whole body, the pain on my head distracting. But the pain in my heart was the most unbearable of all.

This isn't happening.

They were beating him to death. I didn't help. I was killing him.

I'm not here!

I screamed in my head, trying to persuade myself all this was nothing but a bad dream.

I'm not here.

I was in my bed, in my hotel room. Matt was sleeping safe and sound in his own room next door. I would soon wake up...Wouldn't I?

The four men kept kicking and punching him, having forgotten about me a long time ago. However, he didn't react. He didn't protest. He seemed like he didn't care, or worst, he had accepted it. The fact that he couldn't fight back, couldn't successfully defend himself. That he was going to die.

“Fight, you moron!” I thought I screamed, but the only sound that came out of my lips was a low whisper. I felt my head span yet again and vomited violently.

Why didn't anybody come to help? Why people didn't care? Would they leave a man die like this?

Why those four picked Matt instead of me?

I wanted to scream, punch, kick, do anything to distract them, draw attention on me and let Matt escape. Let him take my place and live.

A last rough kick was placed to his ribs, leaving him gasping for air. One squatted down and collected everything he found in Matt's pockets. I watched them walk away, happy with their prey. They surely went to have fun somewhere else. Get high, smoke some fags, do some drugs, drink, f*ck chicks while we were lying there, slowly bleeding to death.

I looked back at Matt. My head span. My stomach flipped and I vomited yet again, the clenching of my stomach the only movement I could achieve at that moment. My head felt hazy and within seconds I slipped into unconsciousness, being consumed by the suffocating black.

I woke up later that night, unaware of how long I'd been lying there, in a pool of vomit and blood.

My blood and his.

I looked up at Matt, curled up to his side with his back to me, noticing his frantic, heavy breathing. My limbs successfully, though painfully, moved, pulling me closer to my friend. I crawled over to him, ignoring the sharp pain on my head.

“M-Matt...” my voice trembled, tears pooling my eyes and streaming down my cheeks again.

Matt, slowly, sorely, turned his swollen face to see me, his blue eyes vouching the tremendous pain he was in. Tears flowed down his already tear stainedcheeks, causing another river of burning tears to escape my own eyes.

“Matt...” was the only thing I managed to say.

I crawled over to the other side, falling there in his bloody puddle. I sniffed. His long, slender fingers moved towards mine, they seemed too weak to reach me although I was mere inches away. I slowly slipped my hand into his, squeezing it ever so slightly, careful not to hurt him. It was icy cold, making my skin sting. His eyelids lulled, another round of tears following from both of us.

I grit my teeth as I struggled not to let more tears escape my eyes. I had to look strong, for his sake.

“Matt...” I whispered again “I'm so sorry, Matt.” He closed his eyes for a second instead of nodding. As he opened them, more tears flowed down, his eyes becoming redder. “Matt. Everything's gonna be alright, mate.” I lightly stroked his cheek, crying inside, and smiled but I didn't fool him. He knew me too well. He knew I was lying. Even to myself. Nobody would find us here. Not before it was too late. And he knew it.

“I swear, Matt. I swear I...” I shook my head when I couldn't find the right words. There weren't right words. What was left to say anyway? But I had to tell him something. Give him hope, keep him fighting to stay alive.

I started crying, once again. I was unable to keep the tears back anymore. He didn't deserve this.

And then I said the most sincere and deep words I've ever said to him. I've ever said to anyone. I never felt like that before; the urge to be utterly honest to the one person who seemed to be everything to me.

“I love you, Matt.” I whispered slowly. "You're the best friend I could ever have." I gained the same reaction from him; tears. And something more. Something I was dying to see at that very moment of desperation. His lips quirked at the ends, giving me the most beautiful smile. The smile of an angel, the one thing that, even for a short moment, made me the happiest man in this hell of a life. His hand squeezed mine with whatever strength was left in him, silently telling me he felt the same. And no matter if I'd say I needed to hear it, in any other situation, it was more than enough right then. More than I could have ever asked for our last minutes together.

His eyes fluttered closed as I shifted to lean my forehead to his.

We grew silent, the only sound being my shaky breaths and Matt's heavy, frantic ones. I'd never seen him so peaceful before. I imagined he was fine, clean, not covered with blood, happy and healthy.

I closed my eyes. We were on stage, playing our best songs, having the time of our lives with the warmth of the spotlights above us. I heard the crowd cheer as I saw Matt walking up to his mic and pulling out his best cheesy rock move with his guitar. The crowd cheered again. I smiled as Matt gave me and Chris the sign to begin. I bang my drums and he start playing. At the end of the song, his guitar flew on my drum kit. I stand up and shout 'Cheers!' into the microphone, Matt smirking and patting me in the back as we walked off the stage. Bliss.

He took a deep breath, snapping me out of my daydreaming and back to the painful reality. He let a low groan when he exhaled. His eyes opened and looked straight in mine. Beautiful, stunning blue eyes staring at dull grey ones. He took another breath in as to talk.

“Shh...” I hushed him, lightly stroking his bruised hand. “You-You need to s-save your strength.” he shook his head. Only a light movement to brush ourforeheads together.

“Dom...” he murmured my name, making me shiver uncontrollably as a wave of joy and fear flooded me. Joy because hearing my name from his lips made everything a little brighter, even at that moment. Fear because something told me what I was going to hear wouldn't lead to good things. I closed my eyes again in an attempt to keep reality out of my head. “I-I'm...sorry...” he mumbled softly, his voice rough and tired.

I opened my eyes and he gave me another smile. I smiled back at him.

“What for?” I breathed. He nudged his cold nose against mine and took a deep, painful breath. His eyes slowly closed as he exhaled his last breath. His hand fell limp into mine.

I broke into cold sweat.

“Matt...?” I desperately looked for a sign, staring at his bruisy chest under his ripped shirt that wasn't moving anymore. “Matt!?” I sat up and shook him “Matt!!”

He didn't respond. And he'd never do again.

“Please...” I cried.

That's was it.

Tears flowed down my cheeks against my will. I gasped for air, my head feeling hazy, my lungs screaming for air. I didn't know what to do. I didn't knowwhere to go. I didn't want to be anymore.

This isn't happening.

I laid back down, clenching my legs close to my chest trying to make the worst painI've ever felt in my entire life to go. I couldn't take it. The loneliness was unbearable. A part of me had left forever.

I forced my teary eyes to open to look at his frozen face.

One of the most important people in my life. One of the most precious parts of my entire life.

No. Now I could see I was wrong. I could see where I was wrong the whole time. He was the most important person in my life. The most precious part of myentire life. Of my entire existence. And he still is. He'll always be.

I didn't know how to live without him.

I hugged his dead body close to my chest.

“Please...D-Don't leave me...” I let tears ran down freely.

I ran my fingers through his dark messy hair, internally begging for death to come for me, too.

This isn't happening...

**Author's Note:**

> wow i'm cringing just posting this. this is such an old story i can barely remeber writing it and i know how cheesy it is, yes. tell me what you think of it anyway. hope you enjoyed :D
> 
> kudos and comment are always appreaciated.


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